I should mention that after doing this graduation trip with me, my grandfather and godfather (who were best friends for like 50 years) decided travel wasn’t so hard after all, and went to Scotland together. For a month.
My grandfather died about a year ago, but in the last 3 years of his life, he did something he always wanted to do with his best friend.
And I still miss him.
Mission statements, when done by big corporations and imposed on others, are generally laughable. I mean, really, either they state the obvious about what you’re about, or they’re hypocritical about what you’re about. I’m sure they’re more useful than that, but despite having been part of a mission statement writing process, I’m not too into them.
On the other hand, when *I* personally set out to do something, I often need a mission statement. Which is another way of saying, “Why am I doing this? What am I hoping to accomplish? What would a successful outcome be for me?” A mission statement is the answer.
So here is my mission statement for my youth group/Sunday School.
The purpose of this Sunday School class is:
To teach our youth about God’s presence in this world and in our lives.
To show the youth ways that God’s presence directs and informs our understanding of the world.
To encourage a daily living out of whatever beliefs our youth hold.
To give a cultural and historical understanding of Christianity, in context to other religions and to current events.
To create young adults with enough curiosity to want to ask the great questions of faith, enough knowledge to know where to begin asking, and enough courage to confront these questions head-on and change the way they live their lives because of the answers they find.
So that’s what I’m headed for, in 45 easy lessons. Wish me luck, friends.
I’m sitting at home right now, listening to Kate Rusby. I am wearing my kitty cat pajamas (the non glow-in-the-dark set). I have a peach candle my husband gave me for Christmas burning on my desk. The snowflakes are falling thick and fast outside. I have a cup of coffee in front of me.
The only way it could be better was if my husband was at home to enjoy it with me.
I love being able to telecommute.
In some ways, learning about the middle ages was as much anthropology as history. (I suppose most history has an anthropological aspect.) I mean, there are historical facts and pieces of literature, but in some ways, I found attitudes and beliefs more interesting. My thesis was basically on medieval literary *attitudes* towards music. It wasn’t what they believed was true about music, it wasn’t about what music actually did in that period, it was about how people writing literature were likely to portray music in that literature.
This is a long introduction to one of the things I learned which blew me away when I realized it. With, I’m sure, many exceptions, people living in the Middle Ages did not anticipate that the world was going to change!!! Consider: 1) A medieval painting of King David — dressed in medieval garb with a medieval lyre and medieval-looking courtiers. 2) Rent declared in perpetuity that is not adjusted for inflation. Can you even imagine telling someone they and their children can rent an apartment from you and your heirs forever and ever for $1200? No! We’d never let it go that long, and if for some reason we did, we’d figure out a way to make sure it at very least moved with inflation. Unless we didn’t care about losing money. There are other examples. I’m sure there are counter examples of people who anticipated change. But I think they were also less likely to perceive change as progress. The Vandals sacking Rome was change, but it wasn’t progress. The black death was at some point new, but it wasn’t progress. Rising illiteracy in the beginning of the middle ages was a change, but it wasn’t progress.
Can you imagine what it would be like to live in a culture where change was not expected? (I’m sure this was true of other cultures — China comes to mind.) For all every generation feels like the one that is following it is going to hell, can you imagine a world where you actually anticipated depopulation, diminishing technology and deflation? What would change about *you* if you were a believing part of a culture who thought that the world was always going to be like it is today?
Of course that brings up eschatology, and the belief that the world wouldn’t change, it would simply end. We’re more likely to believe that if we don’t change, the world will end.